


early mornings (early warnings)

by ryanhaywire



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, intended to be immortal ah but barely hinted, michael is an artist because yes, what do i tag this??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanhaywire/pseuds/ryanhaywire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Start: "The paint doesn't move the way the light reflects."</p>
            </blockquote>





	early mornings (early warnings)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butterflyknifle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyknifle/gifts).



_'come on in boy,' said the skeletons_

-

michael doesn’t do graffiti often, but on the rare occasions he does, he is careful and precise. no one would ever expect michael jones-of all people-to be good at art, but the process is almost calming to him. he’ll never have the patience to take a pen to a piece of paper and create a masterpiece, but out here, with the city air in his lungs and the low hum of cars on the highway behind him, he can relax.

__

this one is quick and hasty, but still just as carefully thought as any other message he leaves behind in alleys, on bridges, or bare for everyone to see. a quick movement of his arm here, a perfect circle there, a hesitant line, and the splotch of paint that slides down the wall when he’s done.

__

this time, the paint doesn’t move the way the light reflects.

__

michael breathes in and out and turns his eyes to the rising sun. the sky is blood red, exactly like the perfect rubber duck now painted on the wall in front of him; the distinct smell of copper blood filling the air, his own rushing through his veins. he kneels down and cleans his blade thoughtlessly on the coat a man is wearing; with how much blood is already soaking into it, he won’t mind more mess.

__

yes, someone has died today. someone will die tomorrow. and someone will die the day after that. and on, and on, and on. the world keeps on turning around him.

__

but death will not come today, not for him.

__

later on, geoff will drag his fingers across the dried blood and smile. “this will work just fine.”

__

not for him. today, he is _fake._

__

**Author's Note:**

> butterflyknifle gave me the sentence "the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects." to write to and this happened
> 
> me? writing way too much over the course of two weeks after not writing for a year? nooo,,,  
> seriously though i'm not really. proud of this one. but i'm posting it anyway so enjoy??
> 
> also it helps to pick up the subtleties if you think of this as immortal ah. it's kinda, supposed to be? but it could very easily not be. i have no idea what i'm doing


End file.
